Tango with the Poltergeist
by gomababe
Summary: America and Prussia drag Sealand and Canada to Greyfriar's Kirkyard and the Covenator's Prison to 'rid the place of the Poltergeist'. Rated for a lot of swearing on Scotland's behalf near the end


A/N: I've been reading a lot of ghost stories recently and one about a beast from Wales got me to thinking about the Mackenzie Poltergeist. It's a well known phenomenon in Edinburgh and I'd reckon America would want to check it out after hearing about it. After all Heroes get rid of evil things right?

...

Scotland regarded the blond nation with a critical look,

"Ye sair ye want tae go through wi' that? The Kirkyard's a dangerous place in the dark." He took another drag of his cigarette. America glared at the Scottish man,

"Of course I want to go through with it." He snorted, "I'm the Hero, and Heroes aren't scared of things that go bump in the night." Scotland smirked a little,

"Ye dae ken that the last person tha' tried tae get rid o' the thing died no' long after right?" America frowned a little, but quickly grinned,

"Since I'm a nation then that doesn't matter." He replied confidently. Scotland shrugged,

"That's true," he agreed, "Doesnae mean tae say that the poltergeist'll go easy on ye." America continued grinning,

"What's it going to do? Throw some leaves at me?" he asked mockingly. Scotland glanced at America out of the corner of his eye and paused for a second; as much as he sometimes disliked his oldest nephew, he honestly didn't want the lad to come to any serious harm. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and steepled his fingers in front of him,

"Dinnae say I didnae warn ye laddie. I'll gie ye a decent piece o' advice, whether ye take it or no' is up to you." He paused as America looked at him with a frown, "Dinnae go daein' anything stupid. "Anythin' goes wrong, ye've only yersel' tae blame." America snorted and waved it off,

"Thanks for the advice, uncle Scotland, but I'm pretty sure I can manage." He said as he bounded out of the door. Scotland sighed as he picked up his cigarette again, glancing up at a small ball of light that hovered nearby,

"Go and make sure the laddie doesnae get himsel' or the others killed." He told the fairy. The little creature nodded and flew out of the room to follow America to the Kirkyard.

...

"A...are you sure this is such a good idea?" Sealand whimpered as America opened the gates leading to the Covenator's Prison. America beamed at him,

"Of course it is. Scotland's just making it all up anyway." Canada sighed, hugging Kumajiro close to him,

"Like you insisted he made up the whole Greyfriar's Bobby thing?" he asked. America glared at his brother,

"Dude, it's a Disney movie. Of course it's made up. Scotland just can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality."Canada sighed and rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else. Prussia strode into the Prison after America,

"This place could do with a cheerier atmosphere." He noted, looking around at all the tombs and mausoleums. Canada muttered something about respecting the people that had died in here, but no one heard him. As soon as the Canadian stepped through the gate, Kumajiro leapt down from his arms, stayed on the other side and growled. America, Sealand and Prussia turned around at the sound. America frowned,

"Dude, what's up with your bear?" he asked. Canada, flustered by the response, knelt down to try and comfort the animal,

"It's ok Kumamuro, there's nothing here." He said, trying to convince himself more than anything else. Kumajiro shook his head,

"Staying here. Not good in there." He replied shortly, his hackles still raised. Canada sighed as he got back up,

"Alright, just don't go wandering." He told the bear, who lay down at the gate sulkily. Canada shivered as he joined his brother. He agreed with his companion, the place was no good, but Alfred was likely to do something stupid and he needed to be there to minimise the damage. America looked into a few of the empty tombs, Sealand scurrying after him, clinging to his coat. America turned back to Canada and Prussia,

"According to Scotland, the ghost should make itself known in one of these things. He never said which." He looked at the empty tombs again. Canada, suppressing the urge to turn tail and get as far away from the place as possible, shrugged,

"It changes every night apparently." America snorted in derision but pointed to one of the tombs anyway,

"Let's try this one, we might as well start somewhere right? Gil, you got that torch?" he asked the albino nation. Prussia nodded and tossed the item to America, who strode confidently inside, swiftly followed by Sealand and Prussia. Canada sighed, why did he even agree to come along? He shook his head as Sealand piped up,

"I don't think there's anything here." He whined. Prussia nodded in agreement,

"Ja, it's creepy, but I don't feel anything." He said. America shrugged,

"Scotland did say it might take a while for things to start happening." He said. He looked outside to see Canada hovering in the doorway,

"Come on Mattie, don't be such a chicken." He called. Canada glared at his brother,

"I never said I was scared Alfred." He retorted, stepping over the threshold. As soon as he did, Canada suddenly felt as if he'd run head first into a brick wall. The last thing he heard was America crying out his name before he passed out.

...

"...attie...you hear me? Mattie!" Canada groaned as he finally came to. He ached all over and his head felt fit to burst. America sighed in relief as Prussia leaned over the stricken man,

"Hey birdie, are you alright?" he asked. Canada squinted up at him,

"Besides feeling like I got hit by a truck... yeah, I'm fine." He winced as America helped him sit up,

"What happened, Mattie? He heard his brother ask from behind him. Canada shook his head,

"I don't know, I just stepped into the tomb and it felt like I'd hit a brick wall." America frowned,

"That's weird. You sure you're ok though?" he asked. Canada nodded as he got up on his feet,

"Yeah, Al, I'm fine." He insisted. America still didn't look very convinced but walked into one of the other empty tombs,

"Let's try this one instead then." He said. Everyone trooped after him, Sealand now clinging onto Canada instead. Canada frowned as he heard the tinkling of a fairy nearby, he looked around, but couldn't see anything. He shrugged at Sealand's curious look and walked into the tomb, where Prussia and America were now sitting on the floor. Canada stopped as he noticed what was on the floor between them,

"Who brought that thing along?" he asked warily. America beamed up at him,

"I did, but it was Gilbert's idea." He replied. Canada made a slightly strangled sound in the back of his throat,

"Are you guys complete idiots?" he asked, "Al, didn't you listen to a word of what Uncle Scotland said about this place?" Gilbert frowned up at him,

"C'mon birdie, it's just a game." He soothed, "What are you so afraid of?" Sealand let go of Canada's leg and bounded over to the board,

"Yay, I like games!" he exclaimed happily. America sighed as he waved his brother over,

"Look, Mattie, I promise everything will be fine." When Canada still didn't look convinced he shook his head, "Look if anything weird does happen, and it looks like there's going to be trouble, we'll pack up and go straight home." He offered. Canada sighed in defeat,

"I'll be right with you guys, I need to take a leak first." He said, leaving the tomb, "And don't start without me!" he added, before breaking into a run. When he finally got out of the Covenator's prison, he sighed in relief as he saw Kumajiro sitting next to the gate's entrance. He looked around for a tell tale blue light. When he finally found it, he let the little creature land on his hand,

"Sorry for making you follow me all the way out here, Breda." The fairy shook her head,

"Nary a problem Canada, I hae an idea whit it is ye want me tae do." She replied. Canada sighed,

"Good," he sighed before turning to Kumajiro, "Kuma, follow Breda back to Uncle Scotland's flat, tell him that America's brought a Ouija board." He told the bear. Kumajiro nodded and followed the fairy out of the graveyard. Canada sighed in relief as he watched them leave. Scotland was going to have a fit when he heard about this. Canada felt under his hoodie and lifted out the charm his oldest uncle had given him. He gripped at it for comfort before turning back and heading back into the prison, hoping that America, Prussia and Sealand had followed his advice and hadn't started without him.

...

When Canada got back he sighed in relief, the others were still just sitting around talking. He nervously stepped into the tomb and coughed. America's eyes went wide,

"D...did you guys hear that?" he squeaked, his face paling. Canada sighed in frustration,

"Al, it's me." He intoned. America frowned and looked at Canada with a confused stare,

"Who are you?" he asked. Canada resisted the urge to slap his face,

"Alfred F Jones, for God's sake, for once in your life you can't recognise your own brother first time on sight?" he asked impatiently. America's confused stared lifted into a joyous smile,

"Mattie! Dude, you could have just said you were back instead of trying to creep us out like that." Canada sighed as he sat down between America and Sealand,

"Sure Al, whatever." He muttered. Sealand tugged on Canada's sleeve,

"So can we start? Jerk England never lets me play with these things." Canada looked down at the micronation,

"We can, I guess, but we need to do some prep first." He looked up at his brother, who was already rooting around in the bag he brought with him,

"Yeah, I brought candles and stuff. I'm not an idiot." He said, bringing the items out and placing them around the little group. He handed Canada a lighter and got to work on lighting the candles nearest him. Canada sighed a little in trepidation as he lit the closest candles to him. He knew that this was a very bad idea, but once America was fixated on something there was normally no way you could get him to stop. Once all the candles were lit, America put his finger on the glass he'd brought with him as a pointer,

"Right guys, you ready?" he asked. Prussia and Sealand put their fingers on the glass and looked expectantly at Canada, who sighed as he placed his finger on the glass as well, but not before visualising the white light around the group like Scotland had told him to do in these cases. He just hoped it would be enough.

...

It took about fifteen minutes of the usual horseplay around the Ouija board {Prussia made it spell out 'Prussia is Awesome'} before anyone noticed the subtle change in the atmosphere inside the tomb. Canada was the first to notice, shivering as a chill ran down his spine. None of the others felt it, but all three of them stared at the glass as it started to slowly spin in a circle. America swallowed the fear he could feel creeping up his throat,

"I...is anyone there?" he asked quietly. The glass stopped it's circle around the board and slowly slid to 'yes'. America beamed up at the others; it seemed to be working now. Prussia used his free hand to get America to ask something else,

"Could you tell us your name?" the blonde nation asked. The glass didn't move for a few seconds, causing Sealand to lift his finger off the glass. Then slowly it started to move to the first letter. Sealand squeaked and quickly replaced his finger as the glass stopped over the letter 'J'. America looked to Prussia, who was already writing down the first letter. It took a few moments, the glass stopping a couple of times as it seemed to debate on the next letter until it finally stopped in the middle of the board. America looked to Prussia, who peered at the letters he'd written out,

"So you're John Mackenzie?" he asked. The glass slid to 'yes'. Canada tensed, causing his companions to look up at him questioningly. Canada licked his lips nervously as he asked another question,

"When did you die?" he asked quietly. America looked at him with wide eyes,

"Dude, that's not polite." He exclaimed, but his attention was drawn back to the board as the glass started to move again.

"1691." Prussia dutifully supplied. America looked up at his brother with a frown as the Canadian man frowned down at the board, the glass now circling it again.

"Mattie, what was up with that?" he asked. Canada looked up at his brother,

"I'm surprised you don't already know about this guy. John Mackenzie was the man who rounded up the Covenators and imprisoned them in this part of the Graveyard, leaving them to die of the cold and starvation. It's why this is called the Covenator's Prison." The glass was circling the table a bit faster now. Sealand tugged on Canada's sleeve again,

"W... what does it mean if the glass is spinning anticlockwise?" he asked nervously. Canada looked down at the glass with a frown, his eyes widening as he noticed that it was indeed circling the board in an anticlockwise direction.

"Oh this is not good." He groaned. America looked up at his brother in confusion,

"Why is it not good?" he asked. But just as Canada was about to reply, Sealand yelped and lifted his finger off the glass, as though he'd been bitten. Everyone else stared at the young micronation, who started bawling,

"Sealand, what's the matter?" America asked quickly, but Sealand didn't stop crying. Canada glared at the board,

"Right, that's it." He growled, trying to push the glass to 'goodbye', but was stopped as something slammed into him. All at once the Canadian felt as though he was drowning, his lungs ached for air and he couldn't seem to find the surface. Almost as soon as it had started, the feeling stopped as someone grabbed a hold of his arm. He felt a warm sensation run over him. He looked over his shoulder to see a large, and very angry man silhouetted in the doorway, several little lights around him. The blonde nation smiled in relief as he passed out.

...

To say Scotland was angry was a severe understatement. He was positively livid. America scurried for safety behind Prussia, who was trying to back up to hide in the corner of the kitchen,

"Whit in the name of all that is holy, were the twa o' ye'se thinkin'?" he bellowed, not caring that it was now two am and that he had neighbours who were probably able to hear every word. England sighed as he soothed a distraught Sealand,

"Angus please lower your voice, I don't want to deal with the police turning up at your front door again." He said. Scotland rounded on his brother with a glare,

"I dinnae gie twa fucks aboot that right now!" he snapped, "These twa owe us a' a bloody explanation fer their actions!" he yelled, pointing at Prussia and America, who were now cowering against the counter. At this point there was a polite knock on the door. Wales sighed,

"I'll go get it." He offered, leaving England to try and deal with a very upset Scotsman.

"Angus, I realise you're upset with them. Hell, even I've got to admit that I'm severely disappointed in Alfred's stupidity." He glared over at the young nation in question, before looking back to his brother, "But screaming at them at two in the morning is not going to help." He said levelly. Wales soon returned to the kitchen with one rather bubbly and one very irate Italian in tow,

"The Italies are here." He said. Scotland turned to the two nations and sent them both an apologetic smile,

"Ta fer comin' at such short notice." Italy beamed at Scotland,

"It's no problem Scozia, fratello and I are more than happy to help." Romano grumbled as he glared at his over enthusiastic brother,

"So what was it you dragged us all the way up here for, haggis bastard?" he asked. Scotland pointed to Prussia and America, who were now staring at the Italy brothers in confusion,

"These twa need a lecture in why it's a bad idea tae mess aboot wi' things they dinnae understand." He said, glowering at them both, "I felt you'd be best placed tae gie it." He added. Romano snorted

"And why would I best best placed to lecture them about it?" he asked. Scotland slowly smiled at him,

"Well, fer one thing, I ken you dinnae want tae miss a chance tae hae a go at Gilbert here. And two, it involves messin' aboot wi' Ouija boards." He replied. Romano sighed,

"_Per l'amore del dio_" he muttered, pinching his nose and sighing irritably, "Come on, we might as well get this over with." He snipped at the two nations huddled in the corner. Prussia slowly got up, snuck past Scotland and practically ran into the sitting room, America scrambling after him. Romano followed after them, closing the sitting room door. Italy looked to Scotland,

"Is there anything I can do Scozia?" he asked. Scotland looked to him and smiled,

"As a matter of fact, there is." He replied, nodding to Sealand, who was still clinging to England in fright, "I think the wean needs a lighter touch and a better explanation as tae why the things are so bloody dangerous, though I think he's a'ready got the message." He added. Italy nodded and bounded over to Sealand,

"Come on, _quello piccolo_, I'll make us some pasta." He said brightly. Sealand looked at Italy warily,

"You're not going to yell at me? He asked quietly. Italy shook his head,

"No, you just made a mistake, and that's ok." He replied. Sealand looked at England, who nodded and put Sealand on the floor. The micronation took the hand Italy proffered to him nervously and followed the other nation into the pantry to look for pasta. Scotland sighed heavily,

"They're idiots, the wholly bloody lot of them." He muttered. England patted his brother on the shoulder,

"At least no one got hurt." He said, "Severely traumatised, yes, but they're all physically alright." Scotland nodded,

"Aye, I suppose." He agreed. He looked to the corridor, "I'm gonnae go hae a word wi' Mata." He said. England frowned,

"It might be better leaving it until morning." He suggested, "The boy needs his sleep." Scotland paused for a moment, then nodded,

"Aye, that's true. I guess it can wait until aifter sunrise." He sat back down at the table as Italy and Sealand came back from the pantry, arms stuffed with ingredients,

"Pastaa!" the Italian man cheered as he put the items on the counter, pulled up a chair for Sealand to stand on and got to work, while muffled thumps and yells came from the sitting room. Clearly whatever Prussia or America had told the Italian man had set him off again. Scotland shuddered as he realised he would need to ask Romano to exorcise the Kirkyard... again. Maybe that could wait for a week or two...


End file.
